


Not Cool Sammy

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean, Gen, Migrane, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:09:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can tell something's up with Sam before Sam even knows something's up with Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Cool Sammy

Dean glanced over at Sam, his brows knitted in concern. 

Sam sighed. "I'm fine Dean."

"You sure?" Dean asked. His little brother really wasn't looking so good. 

Sam nodded and leaned his head against the window. His skin felt too tight on his body, like he couldn't relax or breathe deeply enough and he was horribly grouchy. He wasn't sure why he was in a bad mood, but it was getting on his own nerves. Sam closed his eyes, sighing again. He let his mind wander, trying to relax. He jumped and opened his eyes when he felt Dean's hand press against his forehead.

"Stop it Dean." Sam growled, slapping Dean's hand away.

"Okay, fine. Just don't say I never checked on you." Dean snapped back. 

Obviously Sam was getting sick. Dean had started to notice the signs a few days ago. The pale face, the sudden lack of appetite, the dark circles under Sam's eyes even after a full nights sleep. Dean had kept quiet about it, not wanting to make it a big deal. 

Dean noticed Sam was worse today than the past few days before they left the motel that morning. Sam kept rubbing his neck and shoulders and was moving around like he'd just been in a fight, all stiff and slow. His mood was also rapidly going down the toilet. Dean was planning on taking a few days off the road to get through the worst of whatever it was Sam was dealing with. 

Dean glanced over at Sam again. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out. Dean turned down the radio and wondered how long it would take before Sam would need to stop for the night and hunker down at a motel. Dean didn't think Sam would make it much further than lunch. 

Sure enough, after a quick stop for gas and sandwiches, Sam was ready to sleep in a real bed. 

"Dean?" he asked quietly, tightening the lid of his soda.

Dean raised his eyebrows as a response, his mouth stuffed with sandwich. 

"Do you think we can stop somewhere?" Sam asked. He felt his skin tighten and rolled the window down a crack. 

"For the night?" Dean asked, his mouth still full. Sam swallowed thickly and nodded, looking away from Dean's see-food. 

"Sure. Want to stay in this town or look in the next one?" 

Sam rubbed at his temples trying to push away the headache that was coming on. "Here." he answered shortly. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose. 

"Alright. Let's go find a motel." Dean said softly. He was tempted to tease and bother Sam about stopping early but refrained from doing it. Sam really did look awful, even worse than earlier that morning. He also had the feeling Sam was sick to his stomach, and he didn't want vomit anywhere near the Impala. 

"Thanks De." Sam said. He wanted to curl up in Dean's lap like he used to and have Dean comfort him, but they were grown ups now. 

"No problem Sammy." Dean responded, starting to get a worried feeling in his stomach. Sam hadn't called him De in years. 

Dean pulled out of the gas station and drove a mile or two down the road. He stopped at a nicer motel than what they would usually stay in. 

"I'll go check us in." Dean said after taking a sip of soda. 

"I'll be here." Sam said, getting out of the car. A chilly mist was dampening the earth and Sam liked the coolness on his face. He took a deep breath and leaned against the Impala. His head was pounding and he was nauseous. There were fuzzy spots clouding his vision, so he closed his eyes and rubbed them. Once he went to sleep he would feel better. 

"Room 14." Dean said walking back to the car. "Gotta drive around." Sam nodded shortly and got back into the car. "Woman at the desk gave us the room with the nicest bathroom. Said the tub was big enough for a giant, so I figured if you bend your knees you might fit." Dean joked, gauging how Sam felt on his reaction. 

"Thanks Dean, but I'm not really a bath kind of guy." Sam said. He knew Dean was trying to make him comfortable, knew he'd spent money they didn't have on the nicer room. All he could think about was going to sleep. 

"No problem Sammy." Dean answered quietly. He was getting more worried as the day went on, and it was only lunchtime. 

Sam followed Dean to the door, his bag weighing down his body. He claimed the bed closest to the bathroom and collapsed on top of it, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He heard Dean say something but was asleep before he could ask Dean to repeat himself. 

 

Dean came out of the bathroom drying his hair with a towel. Sam was still knocked out on the bed. Dean dropped the towel on the floor and untied Sam's shoes for him, putting them on the floor by his bag once they were off. He gently placed a hand on Sam's neck. His brother's skin was warm, but not alarmingly so. He crawled into his own bed and clicked off the light. He had only just started to drift off when Sam started shuffling around. Dean figured he would just get comfortable and go back to sleep, but he didn't. Dean could hear Sam's breath shallow out and the shuffling grow more frantic. 

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked, turning the light on. 

"Huh? What?" Sam snapped, looking around. His head was pounding and he was shivering. 

"I asked what's wrong. You're flailing around everywhere." Dean repeated, moving to sit on the edge of Sam's bed. 

"Sorry De." Sam muttered, sitting up beside Dean. He slowly leaned into Dean's side. Dean didn't move, so Sam tucked himself under Dean's arm. 

"You're not feeling good, are you?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head and snuggled further into Dean. Dean smiled to himself and stood up. 

"De," Sam whined. He looked like he was going to start crying. 

"Hey, just getting your pajamas. I'm coming right back." Dean said, his heart breaking at the sight of Sam. 

Sam sniffled and started undressing himself. He peeled off his sweaty shirt and pulled on the fresh one Dean was holding in front of him. He kicked off his jeans and pulled back the blankets, curling up underneath them. 

"You should drink something." Dean said, sitting in Sam's bed against the headboard. Sam automatically moved towards Dean's lap, curling into his side again. 

"Not thirsty." Sam whispered. Talking in a regular voice hurt his head. 

"Drink half this bottle for me and then we can go to sleep." Dean bribed. Sam nodded and took the bottle from Dean. He took a sip and winced as the cold temperature hit his teeth. 

"I can't. It's too cold." Sam whispered. 

"Okay." Dean whispered back, pulling Sam into his lap. 

"My head hurts De." Sam whispered, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. 

"You're pretty warm. Is it a migraine?" Dean whispered. He felt Sam nod. He gave Sam a squeeze and then started rubbing Sam's head. Sam started melting against his body. Dean didn't stop rubbing until Sam was flat against the mattress and was asleep. He carefully leaned over his sleeping brother and turned the light off. Sam mumbled incoherently but snuggled back up to Dean once Dean was lying down. 

Dean jumped awake when he heard a door slam. He hit the light switch, squinting as his eyes adjusted. There was no one in the room. He relaxed momentarily before he realized there was no one in the room. Where did Sam go? 

"Sam?" Dean called. He heard a thud from the bathroom and scrambled out of bed. The bathroom door was shut. Dean opened the door cautiously, in case Sam was on the floor behind it. 

"De," Sam whimpered. The light was off and Sam was curled into a ball in front of the toilet. Dean could smell vomit but couldn't see anything. 

"Can I turn on the light?" Dean asked. Sam clamped a hand over his eyes.

"Yeah." Sam whispered. Dean flicked on the light and quickly wet a washcloth. He placed it over Sam's hand and let Sam replace his hand with the cold cloth. 

"Want to move back to bed so I can clean up in here?" Dean asked. 

"Not yet." Sam whispered. His stomach was still rolling and he wasn't sure he could stand up. 

"Okay." Dean whispered. He sat on the floor next to Sam. Sam was shivering and had tears streaking his cheeks. Dean gently lifted Sam's head so it was resting in his lap. He started rubbing Sam's temples, slowly working his way across his forehead and down behind his ears. Sam moaned at the relief Dean's fingers brought. He was relishing in the feeling floating through his head when the nausea ripped through the middle of everything. 

"Gonna be sick." Sam spit out. Dean lifted him to a sitting position in front of the toilet. Dean rubbed circles on Sam's back as he threw up, ignoring his own nausea that came from Sam's sickness. 

When Sam finished Dean helped him and and walked him back to bed. 

"Here's the trash can." Dean said, placing the can next to the bed. 

"Thanks De." Sam mumbled, curling up under the blankets. 

Dean went back to the bathroom and cleaned up after Sam, wiping away the smell of vomit. Sam was asleep when Dean went back to bed. He laid down next to Sam and fell asleep as the sun rose outside. 

 

"Take some meds." Dean said, nudging Sam awake. He'd slept through the morning without throwing up again and Dean figured his migraine was mostly gone. 

Sam hesitantly opened his eyes. The room was dark, the curtains pulled over the windows. His head pounded with his heartbeat and he pressed on his temples. 

"Do we have any of the good stuff?" Sam asked. He still had to whisper. 

"Only a few pills, so you're gonna have to stretch them out." Dean whispered back. He handed Sam a blue pill and the water he couldn't drink before. Sam took the pill and downed the water. He sighed as he leaned back against the headboard. 

"Want me to rub your shoulders?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and rolled over onto his stomach. He put his arms under his pillow and sighed when he felt his brothers fingertips touch his bare skin. He didn't remember losing his shirt during the night. Dean must have taken it off of him. 

Dean smirked at the noises Sam was involuntarily making. Once Sam was better Dean would make sure he'd never hear the end of it. 

 

Sam came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dean was sitting in front of the TV watching Smokey and the Bandit on the crappy cable. 

"Feeling better?" Dean asked. 

"Tons." Sam answered. He dropped his towel and dug through his bag until he found clean clothes. He smirked at the way Dean's mouth was hanging open. "Stop staring Dean." Sam said. He and Dean both knew what was going to happen next. It always happened after migraines. Sam claimed sex made the last little headache go away faster than any medicine. 

"I'm not." Dean said, looking up at the TV. He felt light headed as all the blood in his body rushed south. 

"You're such a bad liar." Sam said, dropping his clothes back in his bag. 

Dean laughed. "You should've heard the noises you were making when I rubbed your shoulders." 

"Oh, we're gonna play that game, are we?" Sam taunted. He saw Dean swallow hard. He crooked his finger at Dean who jumped up, turned the TV off, and stripped out of his shirt. "Not so fast." Sam growled, pushing Dean down on the bed before he could take his pants off. Sam gently traced the bulge in Dean's pants. Dean bit his lip and willed himself to keep his mouth shut. 

"Let's see what kind of noises you make." Sam whispered. He started mouthing at the bulge, his hot breath making Dean frantic for some kind of friction. The tight denim of his jeans was becoming tighter, and he needed to get them off. 

"Come on Sammy, these jeans are hurting me." Dean whined. Sam popped the button of Dean's jeans and unzipped the zipper one tooth at a time, dragging his fingernails along Dean's dick as he went. Dean tried to rut against Sam's hand, but Sam backed away. 

"No, no don't stop. I won't move." Dean pleaded, his voice rough. 

Sam nodded and continued to pull down on Dean's zipper excruciatingly slowly. Once Dean's fly was open Sam tugged his jeans and boxers off in one fluid motion. Dean's dick popped up, slapping against his stomach.

"Little excited?" Sam asked in a mocking tone. He crawled up to straddle Dean, moaning when their cocks rubbed together. Dean's jaw clenched, and Sam saw Dean's pupils blow out, his eyes almost entirely black. "Don't be afraid to make noises." Sam smirked and pulled away. Dean let out a whine that made Sam's dick twitch. 

"Roll over." Sam growled. Dean rolled over so fast his head spun. He ground his erection into the mattress, his eyes falling closed from the pleasure. He felt Sam slap him, most likely leaving a red hand print on his ass. 

"No moving. On your knees." Sam commanded. Dean whined again, getting up on his hands and knees. Sam pulled some lube out of the bag next to the bed and slicked up his fingers. He rimmed Dean's hole, making Dean shake before gently pressing one finger inside him. Dean moaned and pushed back against Sam's hand. Sam pulled out quickly.

"Sammy," Dean whined. "Need you in me." His voice was hoarse and he was sweating. 

"Then don't fucking move." Sam barked. He slid two fingers in this time, scissoring them. Dean let out an incoherent string of words when Sam struck his prostate. Sam slid a third finger in and pumped his shaft with the other hand, slicking it up with both lube and the precome that was leaking from him. Once he thought Dean was stretched open enough, Sam took his fingers out and quickly replaced them with his dick. He started out slow, making Dean melt underneath him. 

Dean let out a groan when Sam stopped moving. He desperately wanted to touch himself, for Sam to touch him. As if Sam was reading his mind, Dean felt Sam's hand sneak around his waist and slide his slick fingers around Dean's balls. Dean wanted to rock back into Sam to make him move inside him, but stopped himself at the last second with a moan. 

"You're killing me here Sammy." Dean whispered, his voice cracking. 

"Good." Sam answered, kissing along Dean's neck. Dean moaned. Of course Sam wanted to drag this out until Dean was literally coming apart. Sam pushed back into his brother and Dean gasped as Sam struck his prostate. 

"Sammy!" Dean moaned. Sam but his lip and kept the pace slow. Going slowly was killing him as much as it was killing Dean. Dean's arms were shaking with effort as he stayed still while Sam pumped in and out of him. Of course Sam wasn't hitting Dean's prostate every time. That would be too easy. Dean would be finished by now if that was the case. But no, Sam had to twist so he only got Dean's prostate every few pumps, changing up the pattern so Dean was never sure when to expect it. 

Sam did something completely unexpected then. He rammed Dean's prostate harder than he ever had during sex ever before. Dean screamed Sam's name. Sam felt his balls tighten and his stomach grow full and warm.

"Gonna come Dean," Sam groaned, pumping into Dean, making sure not to his his prostate again. He pumped at the same slow pace, dragging out his pleasure until he was coming, filling up Dean's ass. 

"Sammy, don't just leave me like this." Dean whined. Sam's spent cock twitched.

"Don't even think about moving." Sam growled. Dean whined again as he felt Sam's jizz dripping out of his ass. 

Sam licked his lips, making Dean shudder. He crawled around Dean's body and nuzzled against Dean's ass, slowly sticking his tongue out. He gently started licking his come off Dean's thighs, working his was up to Dean's ass. 

Dean was practically sobbing. "Please Sammy, please." Sam licked circles around Dean's hole, waiting until Dean was wound up tighter than a jack-in-the-box to wiggle his tongue into Dean's hole. As he did it, he wrapped his hand tightly around the base of Dean's cock, not letting him come. 

Dean screamed Sam's name again. His balls were tight and he had the feeling of coming deep in his belly but Sam's hand wouldn't let him. He was getting light headed. 

Sam could tell Dean was about to come so he tightened his grip while he listened to Dean whine and groan. He kept flicking his tongue around, trying to drag Dean out as thin as possible. 

"Sammy! Please just let me fucking come!" Dean cried, his voice breaking. Sam wondered if there were actual tears in Dean's eyes. He pulled his face away from Dean's ass but kept his hand firmly in place. 

"Roll over." Sam demanded. Dean did it slowly, his arms and legs weak. Once Dean was on his back, Sam moved on top of him, straddling him. He had a full view of Dean's face now, and it was beautiful. Dean was crying in desperation, hips canting forwards slightly, out of his control. Sam bent down to suck on Dean's nipples one at a time. Dean was writhing under him, unable to keep still anymore. He was gasping and moaning, most likely not even aware he was doing it. 

Sam was fully hard again. He used his free hand to jack himself off, licking stripes up and down Dean's chest and neck. 

"Sammy!" Dean shouted. Sam loosened his grip on Dean's dick and started jacking Dean, both of their dicks in one of Sam's hands.

Dean came quickly, not even having time to warn Sam. He came so hard he saw starts and couldn't breathe. Sam jacked him through the orgasm, and Dean felt like he was coming longer than he had in his entire life. 

Sam picked up his jerking speed at the sounds of pleasure coming from Dean's mouth. Soon after Dean finished, Sam was finishing again, coating them with another layer of jizz. Sam collapsed onto Dean's chest, smashing the puddle in between them and covering them even more. 

"Not cool Sammy." Dean whispered. His eyes were shut and his breathing was still fast and shallow.

"I thought it was fun." Sam answered, peppering Dean's neck in kisses.


End file.
